Heaven or Hell?
by Franky G Fan
Summary: 'When people like us, victims of Jigsaw's cruel, bizarre punishments, die, where do we go? Heaven or hell.' The last musings of a middle-aged woman pondering her fate after life.


**So this came up really rather randomly. I tried to make it intense and deep.**

**I don't own Saw. I'm not that awesome.**

_When people like us get killed in Jigsaw's traps, where do we go? Heaven, for a ruthless death, or hell, for whatever sin we did that caused us to get trapped her in the first place?_

_ I can't concentrate. I can't breath. It's too stuffy in here. I'm suffocating fast, I can feel it, but that thought still presses on my mind, and tears well up. I'm a very influential Catholic. I shouldn't be trapped up in this room, dangling from my wrists with a blade pressed against my stomach. I'm a good person._

_ Or am I?_

_ I don't really know the answer to my own thought. I'm already getting dizzy. I have a headache that's hurting my temple like hell. My breathing is labored and the tears make it hard to see. Every time I wriggle the blade digs in deeper into my flash, causing repetitive flashes of sharp pain._

_ I'm panicking now. The thought from before irritates me. Even though I should be concentrating on figuring out how to get out of this freaking trap, I can't. I don't want to go to hell. I don't. I worked hard for everything I've got. I'm a middle-class woman who lacks social skills and is a firm believer. Was that what caused me to get trapped in here, on the brink of death, and maybe even standing on the lip of hell? My beliefs?_

_ Tears are already beginning to make tracks through my dirt-covered face. I can feel them falling swiftly, but I ignore them until the tang of salt reaches my lips. It's the first liquid that's touched my mouth in hours, and I can't help it; I open my mouth to drink my own tears._

_ I'm getting desperate. The blade is digging even dipper into my flesh and the thought of Satan creeping from the ground to get me into his possession is making me squirm, thus causing more pain. Somehow, I had a distinct feeling I wouldn't survive this. _

_ And yet, I wanted to. I didn't want to find out where I went, not just yet. But I did have a few seconds to ponder what happened to all the other people who were forced to go through the sick, torturous games as I was now?_

_ I'd heard of a few 'famous' ones, if you will. The blonde man who sawed his own foot off and shot a man in order to escape. The one detective whose rib cage was yanked straight out of her chest. The house of people in which included a psychotic drug dealer, a hidden apprentice, and a cop's son. I remembered seeing those stories on the news and praying to God they were in a better place. I had shed a tear. Those people surely had something to live for; families, friends, opportunities, jobs, love, pets, something in their life that makes it worth living._

_ And for me? Mine was God._

_ But maybe that was why I was strapped by my wrists, on the edge of death, wondering what I'd done to deserve this punishment._

_ Maybe it wasn't something I'd done. Maybe it was something I'd became._

_ The thought was incomprehensible to me, but yet, it made more sense than my earlier theories. Something I'd became, maybe something I was. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that would make whatever puppeteer behind the strings that lead me choose ME as his star performer._

_ I pursued that thought for a few minutes until I finally gave it up. It had been my last rational thought to cling to. Panic had enveloped me long ago, and after getting through the writhing stages, I was now at the stage where all hope was lost._

_ I knew I was a goner. I couldn't save myself, and I for surely would end up in hell. The thought made me tremble, but suddenly, the blade dug deeper (of its own accord) and I let out a little cry of pain._

_ Whoever was watching me was getting bored with my silent act and had decided it was time for me to make my choice. But I'd already made it._

_ I shot a glimpse at the dialog clock strung along the wall. Five minutes couldn't have been any more painful. As every minute ticked down, the blade cut through a layer of flesh, causing me to moan/scream in agony. Most times I tried to clamp my teeth down and stifle the cry of pain, but unless I wanted to nip my tongue off, it wasn't the smartest idea._

_ When people like us die, I thought again as the timer reached the last seconds, where do we go? Heaven? The blade sank in deeper and spots of black began to spread out behind my eyes. My body was growing limp and I caught a glimpse of some peculiar golden, luminescent light. All my previous stresses vanished. The blade swung again, slicing through bone and intestine. _

_ Or hell?_


End file.
